


Mixtape

by all_the_kings_ham



Series: The boy who blocked his own shot [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Ficlets, M/M, Young Lucifer, a collection of all the things that I shouldn't be writing about, because June is a majestic creature, drables, one little original character, purely self indulgent, some established relationship stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-03-29 09:38:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13924425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_the_kings_ham/pseuds/all_the_kings_ham
Summary: A collections of bits a pieces from 'The Boy Who'-verseSome of these are from when Gabe and Nick were kids and shaking the pillars of heaven, some are from June's point of view when she's a teen, and then there's just all sorts of inbetweens so we can peek in at the other poor unfortunate souls that were in this story.If you haven't read 'The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot' and have a few days to just delve deep into that mess, please do before reading any of these- because it's not going to make a lick of sense otherwise.





	1. This is the first song for your mixtape

**Author's Note:**

> 'This is the first song for your mixtape, and it's short just like your temper'  
> the chorus to a song that always makes me think of The Boy Who story. Whenever it comes on my ipod while I'm driving I'm brought right back to a doofy story that occupied about two years of my life like a strange and beautiful relationship that ended too soon. 
> 
> I've been sitting on a couple of these fic-lets for literally years now, slowly collecting and adding to them whenever I just need to take a break from other writing projects. As far as I know they are all just little stand alone story chunks (though one of them is sort of a two parter).   
> There's no set update schedule for these. They'll just pop up now and then when I get around to editing them so they are suitable for public consumption.
> 
> and to be honest I'm sort of open to requests?  
> If there's a person, or a moment, or a special something that you're hoping to have a bit more of, let me know??  
> I make no promises, but I do so love this 'verse, so I'll take almost any excuse to write for it.

 

Things should have been more awkward than they were. If June were almost any other kid her father would have set himself up for unspeakable amounts of trouble that first summer. Just getting back together with his boyfriend  _ while _ trying to figure out how to fit a preteen daughter into his life was not a task for the faint of heart. But June wasn’t like most kids her age. She felt like she wasn’t at least. She knew herself to be far more perceptive and knowledgeable about how the adult world functioned. 

She’d figured out a lot of things over the many years that she’d spent hiding in her room, pretending that the odd moaning coming through the wall was somehow a very natural part of the ‘hanging out and watching a movie’ her mom and whatever new  _ boyfriend  _ of the week she’d brought home. Mom wasn’t classy. She wasn’t often fully clothed. It didn’t take a great and well developed mind to really piece together what a mess Lilith was. And June never really held it against the woman. Almost every fault could be easily forgiven, because she’d let her daughter go free. Free into the rather welcoming arms of the bestest Papa that the world have ever produced. 

So it was that, after Mr. Sam had been basically living with them in their new father-daughter house of awesomeness for a few weeks, that June started to notice that Papa and his giant of a boyfriend had started giving each other the same warm and uncomfortable look that Mom and her boyfriends would exchange. 

And at first it kind of surprised June that men would look at eachother like that… but boys like to be naked and kiss girls, it would only make sense if they sometimes like to be naked and kiss other boys as well. They were dating after all. June honestly had no idea why adults always tried to tell her that things were too complicated, and that she wouldn’t understand. She understood things a lot more clearly than they gave her credit for. 

What really threw her for a loop was that after three days the silly old men were still giving each other that ‘I want to bite you’ look. That, paired with the fact that June couldn’t recall seeing them ever even kiss, much less hold hands or hug, or anything that dating people are supposed to do, lead her to believe that her Papa was making some poor choices with his life. Either that, or maybe he didn’t know that Mr. Sam was watching him like a cat watches a bird. Sometimes Papa could be a little… less than observant. 

She’d decided to let it be and just see how it played out. That was at first. After another week passed, and the heavy staring matches hadn’t lessened, June had had just about enough. 

It was about lunch time on a nice Wednesday, and Papa wouldn’t leave for work for another hour. She’d just come home with Meatball from their leisurely walk around the block, and the first thing that June saw after letting her little dog off the leash to go get a drink in the kitchen, was her Papa and Mr. Sam, spread out on the couch. Sitting as far away from each other as possible, both of them sideways with their legs hooked together, facing one another. Papa was reading, Sam was watching Papa read. 

It was cute enough to be disgusting. 

“Welcome back, June-bug.” Papa peeked up over the top of his book. His glasses making his eyes bright and more blue looking than they really were. 

“That’s right where you were when I left.”  She complained in way of a hello, kicking off her flip flops. “You guys are so boring.”

“We do try our best.” He said with a smile. 

Which made Mr. Sam smile too. “We’ve been practicing.”

“I think we’re getting better. We might even be ready to compete in the boring old man olympics next year.”

Mr. Sam laughed, those little dents in his cheeks showing. “I don’t know about that, Nick. The boring competitors that make it to the olympics have had years of conditioning and training. We’re just amateurs. You think we might really have what it takes to win?”

With a grin, Papa leaned in, book to his chest as he spoke with some conviction, “darlin’ we were born to be old and boring. Stick with me, we’ll take home the Gold. I promise.”

Then they were both laughing. Rumbling, deep man laughs that tickled at June’s ribs like distant thunder. It wasn’t even a funny joke. She didn’t get it at all. They were just really weird like this sometimes. She watched them laugh, and readjust, settling together with their legs somehow touching even more than before, and then Papa got kind of quiet, this peaceful, happy little smile on his face as he watched Mr. Sam smiling back at him. 

And then they didn’t kiss or anything. 

June had seen more than her share of movies. She knew the ‘and now we kiss’ laugh like a familiar song. 

Maybe they were just broken.

Or didn’t know that they were allowed to kiss.

She came over, sitting between them, pushing their ankles and gross man-feet into the back of the couch. “Papa…” she risked a look at Mr. Sam, wondering if he should be included in this intervention as well. Maybe not. One on one, this talk might be easier for Papa to hear. “Can I talk to you alone?”

And his smile faded, a concerned little wrinkle between his eyebrows showing. Papa did ‘concerned’ very well. “Yeah, baby. What’s wrong?”

June looked over her shoulder at Mr. Sam, who put up his hands apologetically and got off the couch. “I’ll go see what’s for lunch.” He excused himself as he walked from the room, almost having to duck his head as he passed through the doorframe.

“What’s wrong?” Papa asked again.  

“I need to talk to you about… boys.”

A pained look passed over Papa, like he had something caught in his throat. “Aren’t you a little too young to know about boys?”

She rolled her eyes. “I am not too young. And you aren’t either. Which is what I need to talk to you about.”

He took off his glasses and folded his hands around them restlessly. “... _ what _ ?”

“Do you not know how to kiss boys?”

“...do  _ you _ ?” Papa sounded somewhere between terrified and furious.

She sighed, looking up at the ceiling for strength. “Papa, this isn’t about me. It’s about you and Mr. Sam.”

“I don’t understand what you’re-”

“Have you even kissed him yet?” She cut him off and then watching in utter fascination as her father’s cheeks turned a startling shade of pink. She’s had no idea that adults could blush. Why had no one ever told her that adults could blush? It was amazing. 

“June, I- I’m not-” he stumbled over his words for a few seconds before clearing his throat and trying to look all serious again. “That’s not really something that you need to know about.”

“If I have to see you guys walking around the house every day, making goofy faces at each other, then it’s totally my business. So don’t tell me it’s not.”

“We do not make goofy faces.”

She laughed, because it was such an obvious lie it was funny. “Oh my God. Yes, you do. Like, freaking all the time.”

Papa looked confused. 

“It’s like Simba and Nala when they’re wrestling around in the jungle and she licks him, and then she looks at him like ‘hey, you gunna lick me back?’.”

Papa almost laughed, but did a good job keeping a straight face with those unhappy eyebrows of his. “Excuse me?”

“From the Lion King.” She sometimes forgot that he wasn’t up to date on all the pivotal Disney movies, like he should be. “You know the one. It’s like-  _ can you feel the love tonight _ ?”

The old man rubbed at his face, almost hiding a smile. “I’m not going to lick Sam.”

She folded her arms over her chest, because she was not going to put up with his nonsense. “He’s your boyfriend, right? So why do you guys never kiss? Mom kissed all her boyfriends.”

“I’m not going to kiss him in front of you, June. Some things you just don’t do in front of kids.”

“I’m not a  _ kid.” _ She reminded with only a little heat to her voice. 

His hands came up in apology. “Sorry. I meant in front of ‘other people’.” 

“Mom did.”

“Yeah, well… I’m sure that there were a lot of things that your mom did that I won’t be doing.” Papa said in that weird, tight voice that he used sometimes when talking about Mom.  “Just… don’t worry about Sam and me, ok? We’re good.”

“So… you guys just don’t kiss because I’m around.” She struggled to sort out the weird adult-logic that was being used on her.

“That’s not- just don’t worry about it, Juney.”

“Because I can go over to a friend’s house, or take Meatball on another walk if you two need to smooch for a bit.”

“We don’t  _ smooch _ .”

“You should.”

Papa’s face turned a lesser pink this time. 

“Then maybe you two wouldn’t be making such stupid faces at each other all the time. It’s not as cute as it would be if you guys were lions. It’s more sad. Like he just sits there looking at you, then he looks away and you look at him. And holy crap, Papa, when you are you guys going to look at each other at the same time and do that leaning thing?”

The utter confusion was obvious on Papa’s face. The little wrinkle between his eyes was back, and his mouth slightly open as he struggled for a good answer. Finally settling on a “you need to watch less movies when you go to visit Uncle Gabriel.”

It was hopeless. 

June was going to be doomed to eight more years of these silly old men just making those doofy faces across the table and various other pieces of furniture. 

Maybe she should have tried to talk to Mr. Sam about it instead. He seemed to be a bit more logical than Papa could be. 

.:.

“Do you like my papa?” 

Sam stopped pushing the lawnmower and, wiping some sweat from his face with the back of an arm, turned to face the porch with a strange look on his face.

June waited, but she wasn’t really patient. “Do you? Like… _ like-like _ him?”

And Sam’s smile was less uncomfortable than Papa’s had been. “Yeah. I  _ like-like _ him. He makes me happy.”

“And mad.” Because June could hear the two men arguing quietly late at night when she was supposed to be sleeping. 

“And mad,” Mr. Sam agreed with an easy smile. But then again, he was a surprisingly honest adult.  “But that’s part of being in love with someone. They make you mad enough to kill them- only you don’t. Because you know that you’d miss them too much.”

Meatball brushed against her leg, the chubby little pug running through the open sliding glass door to make crazy circles around the mostly mowed yard. June watched for a bit, thinking it over. Not sure if Mr. Sam was ready to have this talk with her- but he was the one that used the word ‘love’ first.

“Do you two really only kiss when I’m not around?”

Unlike Papa who had gotten awkward and blushed, Mr. Sam just laughed. “We don’t- did he tell you that?”

She nodded.

Which only made Sam laugh again. “We don’t… we don’t really do that anymore. We like each other a lot, but I think we’re still trying to get used to being around one another again.”

“Since the big fight? Because that was  _ forever  _ ago. You’re living with us now.” Why were grownups always so ridiculous all the time?  “You need to stop sleeping on the couch and stop making stupid faces at each other. And just go back to how you used to be.”

“You don’t know how we used to be. It could be awful.” He tried to sound reasonable.

June wasn’t buying it though. “Nothing is more awful than watching you two pretending to not be watching each other.” It was like torture. 

Sam shook his head and started pushing the little mower again. “Is it really that bad?”

“It’s like a million times worse every day. You two are pitiful.”

“Pitiful?”

“So pitiful.” 

It was clear that, much like Papa, Mr. Sam didn’t seem to really feel that there was a problem here. 

Which meant that reinforcements were needed- because she was  _ not _ going to spend her first summer in California watching two grown men looking at each other like Meatball looks at pizza.

.:.

Since she was five years old and had wanted to run away from home, Uncle Gabriel had been her partner. He was the sneakiest, trickiest man that she knew. 

So it was a bit discouraging to look at the list that they’d made together.

“Is this really the best we’ve got?” She tapped her pen on the table.

“Well, kiddo, you vetoed locking them in the closet, or drugging them or any combination of the two.”

June rolled her eyes, even if Gabriel was on the phone and couldn’t hear it.

“I’m telling you, we just crush a little purple pill up and put them in their drinks. Then we just sit back and wait. It’ll be like  _ Wild Kingdom _ .”

“I already told you gross. But still- GROSS. And we are  _ not _ drugging Papa.”

Her uncle grumbled on his side of the phone.

“We need romance. Not pills.” She reevaluated the list. 

“Then the beach house is your next best bet.”

“I still don’t believe that you own two houses. No one really has two houses. That’s just in movies.”

“I told you, me and my queen own the normal house- her parents own the beach house.” Gabriel siiighed. “But we can use it whenever we want.”

“The beach isn’t romantic though. It’s fun.”

“Not this beach. It’s up north. It’s cold and not touristy, and there’s nothing to do up there but go on long walks in the trees, or stay cuddled up together.”

That didn’t sound right at all. A cold beach? She’d just have to believe him. “So how do we get them there and all alone?”

“My dear, I think this is a crazy idea, but I respect your pure heart and good intentions. Leave all the dirty work to me. Dirty work is my specialty.”

June liked her uncle. 

He was a good uncle.

.:.

“What do you mean ‘the car broke down’?” Papa was not amused. “Are you ok? Where are you guys? We can turn around and come back for you.”

“Papa,” June leaned comfortably against the warm side of Uncle Gabriel’s car, watching the cars going by on the road. “You said that you’re already there. Stay.  Don’t worry about us. Uncle called a tow truck.” 

“Let me talk to him,” and it was hard to tell if he was mad or worried. A lot of Papa’s emotions were on his face. When it was just his voice it got a little confusing. 

But she passed the phone to her uncle, watching the man pull the lollipop from his mouth before grinning and singing hello into the phone. 

June shook her head and then walked around the car, waiting for her aunt to join her as they walked into the Burger King. 

“Why did you tell Nick that the car broke down?” Rheka asked so very easily even as she looked down at June, and then back at the car with so much suspicion. 

“Because lying to him is the only way to get him and Mr. Sam alone.”

“Have you and Gabriel been planning things together again?”

“Don’t say it like that,” June begged, taking the woman’s hand and giving her best puppy dog eyes. “Did you know that Papa and Sam don’t even kiss?”

“Honey, that is none of my business.”

“But it’s  _ my _ business. I have to live with them always making goofy eyes at each other, pretending that they’re not. All the time. They’re all lovesick and gross. They need to just be alone so they have a chance to talk about their feelings, like adults.”

Aunt Rheka ordered them some chocolate milk shakes and french fries, so polite to the dude behind the counter, before turning back to June with such a disapproving look. “So you and Gabriel tricked them into taking a vacation?”      

“A romantic get away, because Mr. Sam told me they were still weird with each other since their break up, and Papa said that they can’t kiss around me for some weird reason.” Their stories hadn’t matched, and even if it was slightly traitorous June trusted Mr. Sam a whole lot more than Papa.  “So I’m helping them out… and Uncle is helping me out.”

“By saying all five of us would go away for the weekend, and then us not showing up.”

“It’s not perfect- but we didn’t have a lot of options, and I wasn’t going to let Uncle drug them.”

Her lovely and classy aunt looked out the big front windows to where their car was parked in the parking lot, to her husband who was still talking on the phone with big arm movements. “I really think that you and Gabriel need to spend less time together. I’m having flashbacks to high school, and him and your father and the horror we all felt when the two of them would ‘ _ have a plan _ ’.”

June twisted her arms around the metal bars that were supposed to keep people in line while they waited to order food. “Yeah?”

“The two of them always had the worst plans. The worst. The rest of us lived in fear.” She sighed and went up to the counter to pick up their order, handing the bag of fries and one of the shakes to June, keeping the other two to herself. “And it worries me that you are so much like your father.”

Which was the nicest compliment that anyone had ever given her.

She didn’t know what sort of shenanigans that the brothers would have gotten up to. Things had been hinted at now and then in weird sideways kinds of stories, but nothing had been straight up laid out to her. “You think on the way back to your place you can tell me some stories?”

Bumping the doors open with a hip, and waiting for June to pass through, Rheka got a curl of a smile. “I can try, but I promise that your uncle is going to steal whatever story I try to tell you, and that he is going to keep on telling your stories about himself until you beg me to make him stop.”

That sounded wonderful. 

And it really, really was. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. The things we get away with- Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young and awkward Nick takes his young and flawless best friend to prom because her boyfriend ditched her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this in my head for literally years, but there was just no proper way to mash it into TBW. It feels so good to get it out. Teenage Nick gives me life and I want to write more about him and Gabe, I'm just not sure what adventures to write about yet.

The old treehouse was less than stable. Strong winds made the branches rattle and scrape against the walls. Dad had built it, and he meant well, but he’d never been all that handy with a saw and nails. To be honest, it was a bit of a surprise that it was still standing now that his boys were in their late teens. Nick was the only one still brave enough to climb up the worn ladder rungs and sit on the uneven floor boards. It meant that he had one of the best places imaginable to hide himself away.

He was blowing wobbly smoke rings up towards the small waxy spring leaves, the paper of the cigarette dry against his lips. He didn’t actually like the taste, but it made him feel very grown up, wich was something that was very important to a sixteen year old kid like himself.

A soft knocking came to the boards under his sprawled out legs, and seeing as company was practically unheard of, it gave him pause. He quickly snuffed out his half burnt cigarette and blew away the smoke that lingered around his head. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I come up?”

“Rehka?” He wasn’t sure if he wanted to frown or smile at who had snuck up on his hiding place. “Yeah, permission to come aboard.”

As her head came into view through the open slats Nick settled into a frown. 

Her eyes were red and a little puffy, her mouth set in a tight line that said she was more angry than anything else, and Nick felt protective and furious on her behalf, but didn’t know how to express either―so he opened his arms to her.

With a frustrated sort of growling sound she folded against his chest, tucking her head under his chin.  

“What’d he do this time?” Nick settled an arm around her shoulders, watching as she nudged his textbooks away from them as if she planned to banish all distractions before launching into whatever terrible thing her jackass of a boyfriend had done this time. 

“I go to double check with him that he remembered to reserve his tux for prom, and that he knows that my dress is red so he needs to have a tie that matches me,” she took a long and trembling breath before fisting a hand in his sweater, “and he told me that he’s going with Linnette to prom. Can you believe him? It’s tomorrow night and he’s ditching me for a cheerleader.”

Even on a bad day Nick would have happily picked Rehka over his own brother, so yeah, it was a little hard to believe. “You want me to punch him for you?”

“I already did that,” her words soft and strained. “And when the little jerk is kissing her tomorrow, and it hurts his split lip, then I hope he thinks of me.”

Saying that he was proud of the delicate girl in his arms would have been an understatement. He’d probably still be smacking the hell out of Gabriel for making such a fucking miserable choice of ditching his true love for a set of pom poms. Rehka had basically been his sister since they were all in kindergarten and her and Gabe had decided that they would be married. 

Must have been one hell of a set of pom poms on that girl that Gabe had decided to take instead.

“You going to take someone else too, just to rub it in his stupid little face?”   

The suggestion seemed to give her pause and after a while she sat up and fumbled around Nick’s things to find his little crumpled pack of cigarettes. “There’s no one else to go with.”

“No one at all?” He had his doubts as he pulled out a lighter from his pocket. “Everyone in your school is already going with someone else? That sucks.” It had been  _ their _ school for a few months freshman years, up until he’d been expelled for fighting and had to be transferred to a different district on the wrong side of the bay. 

“I mean there’s no one else I  _ want  _ to go with.”

“You could do a lot better than Gabe.”

“Shut up.” She took the lighter from him and lit the tip of the cigarette that dangled from her lips. She certainly made it look better than Nick ever could. “I love him.”

An old argument that killed something deep down in Nick every time he had to hear it again. “Then don’t go. He’ll come around.”

“It’s my prom.”

“It’s just a school dance.”

“Says the guy who didn’t even go to his.”

There was no point in defending his own lack of dancing. Lilith hadn’t wanted to go, and then she did, and then she didn’t, and in the end he’d stayed home to study his SATs and she went with her friends and the two of them still weren’t talking. “It’s just a dance.”

“I’ve been looking forward to this since sixth grade.” Her scowl was like the threat of rain. Her dark eyes damp as she forcibly threw herself back against his chest to hide her face from him. “You’re just a dumb boy. You don’t understand how important this is.”

Awkwardly he ran a hand over the long braid that ran down her back. “Go by yourself?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll just show up alone and watch my boyfriend fawning over the prettiest girl in school. That sounds amazing.”

“How can she possibly be the prettiest girl in school if you’re enrolled there too?”

Rehka laughed so softly into the curve of his shoulder and Nick silently gave himself a gold star. Her didn’t know how to fix the mess of a relationship between her and his younger brother, that had been having more bad days than good for the past year, but at least he could still get her to laugh. 

They quietly traded the cigarette back and forth between them, settling into their quiet and very small rebellion in their own ways. It burnt out, though, and they could only sit against one another for so long in silence before started to feel like they were avoiding something.

Messing with the sleeves of her school uniform, Rehka didn’t look up at him while she spoke. “Come with me.” It was vague and not actually a question. 

“Where?”

She sighed like she usually only did with Gabe, quiet and frustrated. “To prom.”

“Hell no.” Nick was pretty sure she was joking, but he needed to make sure that she knew where he stood. “Not even for you, my queen.”

“Your girlfriend wouldn’t like you taking me out?”

“Me and Lilith aren’t a thing right now.”

Rehka sat up just enough to give him a slightly sympathetic look, but she’d heard this story too many times before and had never really liked Nick’s girlfriend in the first place. “Then come with me.”

“I hate dances.”

“They can’t be any worse than staying home and studying AP calculus.” She made a face at his textbooks. 

One of his favorite things about this girl was that she didn’t try to guilt him. Didn’t try to manipulate him by strong arming him with their decade old friendship. She didn’t even pout at him. She just shrugged and said, “you could come with me and watch your brother making an ass out of himself.”

She only swore when it was just the two of them alone. Just like she only ever stole cigarettes from him when they were here in the treehouse or down at the beach. Her parents would lose it if they saw their only child acting like a delinquent―but they’d always liked Nick and how he had good grades and never made their daughter cry. They might actually be happy that he was the one taking her to prom instead of Gabriel.

.:.

“Where you going dressed like that?”

“Out,” Nick grunted as he glared at his own reflection and the shadowy brother of his that lurked in the doorway to the bathroom.

“I didn’t know you even owned a tie.” Michael was watching the whole proceedings with a high level of scepticism. 

Nick didn’t own a tie, he’d taken one of Dad’s, and if only their father had actually been home then perhaps he wouldn’t still be fighting with trying to tie the stupid thing. He’d seen it done in movies and it had never looked this hard. 

His brother watched in silence with his dark and judgy eyes before finally making a guess. “I thought that you and Lilith broke up again.”

“ _ Damn it _ ,” he quietly hissed at the lopsided knot as he tugged it into place, and though it wasn’t even close to perfect it was as good as he was going to get. “No. I‘m going out with Reh.”

A complicated expression moved over Michael. He’d never really been big on talking so it was a mystery as to how he felt about this news. But he said, “You’re useless.” which was apparently his way of offering help. He took the tie from Nick and tied it around his own neck before loosening it and handing it over, ready to be worn.

Mumbling something that might have passed for thanks, he settled the tie around his throat like a noose and ran a hand through his hair.

Whatever small moment of peace between them lasted hardly fifteen seconds before Michael asked, “you going to take out that stupid earring?”

“You going to ever shut up and mind your own business?” Nick pushed past him and went to the front hall, grabbing his keys. 

It was a rather short walk next door, cutting across the shaggy lawn in front of their home to the very neatly trimmed yard of the girl next door. Her parents paid for some guys to come by once a week and keep the front and back yards looking Better Homes and Gardens ready, unlike his own father who thought it would be good for his boys to be responsible for their own landscaping. He knocked twice before letting himself in. There had been this sort of open door policy between the two families since Rehka’s parents moved in eleven years ago and their daughter had proclaimed herself an unofficial member of the Shurley family. Nick didn’t usually take advantage of the comfortable closeness, but he wasn’t about to wait outside wearing a tie. He felt ridiculous and wanted to get it done and over with as soon as possible. 

“Reh? You ready to go?” Nick called into the house and wasn’t sure what he expected back in answer. He couldn’t even remember what color dress Rehka had said that she was going to be wearing even though she’d made a big deal a few weeks ago to describe the thing to him in great length. She came downstairs looking like a princess out of a movie that Nick really wanted to see. He knew very little about fashion, and even less about girl’s dresses, but whatever she was in was red and gold and looked soft enough that his hands itched to touch where it hugged the long and tight line of her stomach, getting all big and billowy as it went down, swaying around her like silky curtains. 

Nick felt a little like he’d been struck, not at all prepared for seeing his best friend out of a lumpy school sweatshirt of the first time in years.

She grinned at him though, seeing and obviously enjoying whatever stupid expression he wore. “You found a tie.” Her hands smoothed over his shoulders as she grinned up at him. “You look almost nice.”

“You look―just wow.”

“I was hoping for maybe a kiss and a  _ yowza _ , but that would have been Gabriel, and I guess that a wow from you means about the same thing.” She teased, still grinning and not showing even a hint of the jilted feelings that she’d shared with him in the tree house. “‘Wow’ isn’t so bad.”

“Gabriel is going to,” Nick struggled with the words. “He is going to steal you away from me as soon as he sees you and I’m going to be left alone at a prom that isn’t even my prom.”

“If he tries I will tell him to screw himself.”

Nick loved her so much. “Do you need to tell Mom and Dad that we’re going?”

“They’re both working late at the hospital tonight.” She went to a closet near the door and pulled out a jacket that looked more pretty than warm. “But they know where we’re going and they said my curfew is two.”

“Two?” Usually she had to be in by ten, so the leniency for the night was a bit surprising. 

“Yeah, I’m supposed to give Mom a call at the hospital to let her know when I get in.” Rehka came over, her shoes making sharp sounds on the tile floor. She slid an arm through his and looked expectant. “Come on, let’s make it quick. You look like you’re dying.”

“I had to raid my dad’s closet for this snazzy outfit, I’d like to get it over with and get out of it as soon as possible.”

The only hitch in their plan was that Nick didn’t own a car and Rehka had some strong words to say about riding on the back of his motorcycle. After a bit of arguing, and not much coercing on her part, she talked him into taking his dad’s car from the garage. He wasn’t using it after all, out of state on a book tour, and he wouldn’t care if Nick borrowed the old Plymouth station wagon for the night.

And as night’s went, it was one of the shortest ones that he’d ever had. There’d been all kinds of dread about going into the stupid dance in the first place, but he’d expected to have to suffer through at least an hour of forced socialisation where he hung onto his friend like a life preserver all while doing his best to keep her smiling. But the two of them got in the doors and didn’t even make it as far as the little photo area before Rehka was ready to leave. 

There was a que to get pictures taken, well dressed and happy couples and groups loudly waiting for their turn to grin into a camera. 

Nick and Rehka’s timing was terrible, or a little too perfect, because from where they stood at the door they could see the front of the line, which meant that they could easily see Gabriel and his date hanging off one another, laughing and kissing for the very unimpressed looking photographer. Rehka tensed beside Nick, her very small and very strong fingers digging into his arm. 

“I want to leave.” Her voice was so soft that the words were almost wholly lost in the noise of the room.

Nick heard and he sighed, but didn’t try to argue with her namely because in all the time that he’d known her he’d never once won and he had a good feeling that his luck wouldn’t change tonight. “You want me to go hit him before we head out?”

She didn’t offer any kind of answer other than pulling him from the room by his arm.

It was a big parking lot, and Nick had parked them in the last row. From where they sat with the engine cold they could watch other students in their very nice clothes lingering around and smoking between cars, laughing and waiting for friends. It felt like being a stone in a river, watching everyone moving around them with such purpose while the two of them just sat still and said nothing, the quiet punctuated by occasional sniffles from the passenger seat. 

The little clock on the dashboard hadn’t worked in years which made it difficult to tell how long they’d sat there, but the windows had started to fog over and Nick started losing his nerve.

He opened the glove box and found some fast food napkins that he passed over, doing his best not to acknowledge that his best friend was pointedly not crying beside him. “You… maybe want to go get ice cream?”

Clearing her throat and lightly pressing one of the folded napkins to her cheek, Rehka very clearly said, “No.” 

“I know where my dad hid away a bottle of scotch. Do you want to sneak it up to my room and we can wear sweats and watch The Good The Bad and The Ugly?” He offered up her favorite movie with a side of extra delinquency in hopes of getting another smile out of her.

“No,” she repeated, her face turned away to look out the clouded windows, the fall of her hair down her back making a hushed noise. 

“Want to run away from home? Maybe join the circus?”

She sniffled and squared her very bare shoulders. “Yeah, that sounds fantastic.”

“O-ok… which one of us gets to be the lion tamer and which one is the bearded lady?”

“The running away from home part, not the circus, smart ass.”

He’d never really run away from home before. If he was going to do it with anyone though, it would be the girl beside him. She was fearless and she was strong and she knew where the spare key to her parent’s beach house was. 

It was less than an hour’s drive up the coastal roads, Rehka fiddling around with the radio stations everytime one was too cut through with static for her liking. Nick had never driven up here, he’d always been a passenger and really hadn’t paid all that much attention, so he took the clipped kind of directions from his friend and they didn’t get too lost along the way. 

Last time they’d been up here was at the tail end of summer, months back, right before school started, and the little beach house looked different in the early spring. The trees in the yard barren, all the rose bushes trimmed back so they just looked like sticks poking up from the ground, every one of the wide windows facing the sea were dark and the curtains drawn. 

“It looks kinda spooky.”

Rehka looked over at him for the first time in what felt like forever, a hint of a smile somewhere beneath the exasperation. “Don’t be a weenie, Luci.”

The nickname drew an involuntary frown out of him and he got out of the car so she wouldn’t have a chance to enjoy it. The night air here was somehow colder than it had been in the bay. Maybe because there were no buildings to block the wind that came in from the sea, or maybe just because they were further north. Weather patterns being the mystery that they were he folded his arms over his chest against the chill and worried a little for his friend who got out of the car with her shoulders bared to the night’s sky.   

If the cold bothered her she didn’t show it, anger or sadness or whatever she was feeling carrying her along with the wind. The wide skirt of Rehka’s dress swayed around her, whispering strange feminine secrets as she went to the side of the house to retrieve the spare key from whatever deep dark hiding place it was kept.

Two deadbolts undone and Nick followed as Rehka pushed their way into the quiet little house. The furniture was all covered in white sheets and there was a faint scent of pine-sol in the air; he remembered hearing something about a cleaner who came in every other week during the off season to keep things tidy, which was a little too much of a ‘rich people thing’ even for his taste.  

Rehka pushed the door closed and fumbled the hall light on. “You’re going to make us a fire in the fireplace and then maybe put the kettle on and see if there’s any tea or something.”

“Tea?” The suggestion was slightly offensive to him, but it that’s what she really wanted then that is what he would find for her. “What are you going to be doing while I make a mess in the kitchen?”

“Finding something less fancy to wear.” She left him beside the door to go back towards the bedrooms. “Fancy time is done.”

Once when they were kids Nick had broken Gabriel’s arm. A spiral fracture that paired well with the black eye that Gabe had offered in trade. They were never one-sided fights between them. His brother was small, but he was ferocious and those short little arms of his always swung wide. Nick was bigger, and Nick was stronger, and Nick had every intention of actively injuring Gabriel tomorrow. He would have done the same to anyone who made his best friend sound that defeated. 

For now, for tonight, he did his best to carve out a small bit of comfort for her. He built a weak and heavily smoking little fire in the fireplace with some damp wood that he’d found on the back porch. He washed out the red tea kettle that he found after some searching, and got the water set onto the stove to heat up. By the time he was digging through the pantry, looking among the few canned foods and spices and such left over from summer, Rehka returned to him. She’d ditched the dress in favor of one of her father’s ‘vacation’ shirts. Her face scrubbed clean of makeup and her hair pulled back in its usually brad. Floral print and large colorful birds looked strange on her, but not as strange as the amount of leg spilling out below the hem and buttons.   

“Yowza?”

She followed his gaze down the length of her, from bare thighs and knees to long toes hugging the wooden floors, a tiny smile curled at the edges of her mouth and she went to go find two mugs. “Oh, shut up, Nick.”

“Sorry. I just…sometimes it’s easy to forget that you’re actually a girl and have legs and stuff.”

She went straight into the cupboards and pulled out the little tin of tea that had been hiding from him, slapping it into his hands. “Try and stay focused on the birds. It’s safer.”

“I’m worried I might go blind if I look at them too long.”

A grin grew from her smile and she left him for the livingroom and the fire. 

He forced himself to focus on the process of making tea and not watching his best friend walk away because he didn’t want to be interested in seeing if he could catch a glimpse of what colored panties she might have on. And he’d never really thought about her that way. Never once before in his life had he considered that she might have on panties. It made him feel a little crazy, and very confused. 

Reluctantly, he brought her tea, and was so relieved to see that she’d tucked herself up on the couch with a blanket that covered all of her except her head and shoulders. Just like that she’d changed from surprisingly leggy young lady back into his best friend. 

She nodded to the half of the couch that she’d saved for him and held a hand out of the blankets to take one of the mugs he offered out. It was as easy as it always was to settle in beside her. She’d been sitting with one of his arms around her since they were eight and first discovered scary movies together. She’d been looking for somewhere to hide and he’d been looking for a human shield to keep him safe from Freddy Krueger’s long and scarry arms. Tonight felt like they were half the way back to being little kids, only this time Nick wasn’t looking for anything.

They listened to and watched the very angry little fire that smoldered and popped and billowed streams of smoke up into the chimney. 

His tea grew cold and untouched on the coffee table, his right side warm and so weighed down by the girl curled against him. “Should I find a movie for us?” 

“Do you think they’ve left the dance by now?” She asked instead of any kind of answer. 

The clock on the VCR said it was nearly ten. “Maybe?”

“You think they’re going to have have sex?”

Sometimes Nick could be exceptionally stupid. He said things without thinking. He let his mouth run when he should just keep quiet. Years of putting his foot in his mouth had taught him to see the moment coming. 

He almost answered her questions, but it could only go one way, and he couldn’t lie to Rehka instead. He never could. So he said nothing and tightened his arm around her shoulders.

“I hope she gives him syphilis.”

Nick hid a smile in her hair. 

“I hope his dick falls off.”

Laughter caught in his throat. “Is that how it works?”

“If I’m lucky.” She pressed her cheek to his chest and sighed tightly. “If that jerk want to lose his virginity to that skank then he deserves whatever STD she’s got.”

“He’s…” Nick struggled with what he was about to ask, “I mean… he’s not anymore. Right? The two of you…”

“Is that what he told you? That me and him did it?” She shook her head. “Yeah, no. We haven’t really made it past second base, but it doesn’t surprise me that he’d lie about it.”

It didn’t surprise Nick either. They were competitive brothers and it had only been a week or so after his own first time that Gabe had announced that he’d joined the club as well. What a thing to lie about, though. Not that people didn’t lie about sex probably all the time, but to lie about it when it involved the perfect girl next door? He hadn’t thought that Gabriel would sink that low just to fit in.

“You think that’s why he went with her? Is that why he picked her instead of me?”

Anger and protectiveness made his head suddenly hurt. Over the past few months he’d had to listen to one side or another of Rehka’s and Gabe’s arguments. He did his best not to take a side, namely because he actually sort of liked the son of a bitch that was his brother, and he’d loved Rahka since they were kids. No one should ever have to pick between their best friend and their family―but hearing the wounded bird sound to her voice crippled something deep down inside Nick. He crushed her to him, she spilled some of her tea, and he didn’t care. “It’s because he’s an idiot. My brother’s a fucking idiot.”

She nodded, fumbling her mug onto the table beside his to free up her hands so that she could wrap her arms around him and hold tightly to his tie like she was afraid that he’d slip away otherwise. “Is it bad that I wish he was more like you?” 

“You wish that he had a funny nose and no social skills? Yeah, I don’t know if that’s bad, but it’s definitely weird.” It was hard to defend his brother in times like this. “He’s the worst, but he really does love you. He has since the first time he saw you.”

“Then why’s he with someone else?”

Nick hid his face in her hair. “Because boys are stupid.”

“You’re a boy too.”

“Oh, I’m just as stupid as the rest of ‘em.” Another thing that he couldn’t lie about.

She seemed to take his confession with some deep thought before finally telling him, “Never fall in love with a boy, Nick.”

He laughed a brittle kind of laugh, because he really wasn’t planning on it but he’d take her advice all the same. “They’ll break my heart?”

“They will break your heart.” She nodded her agreement, punctuated by a small sniffle.

“Come on, Reh.” He whispered to the top of her head. “Please don’t cry again. I don’t know what to do if you’re crying.”

She used his stolen tie to dab at her eyes before looking up at him. “I’m not doing it on purpose, you ass hat.”

He slid a hand from her shoulder up to her cheek, thumbing away a tear that had escaped. “I don’t know how to make this better.”

“Stay here with me?”

“I can do that.” It was an easy promise to make because he honestly couldn’t think of a single place that he’d rather be right then. 

“Kiss me?”

His throat very suddenly went dry and he became overly aware of his hand still on her cheek. 

“I looked beautiful tonight, Nick. I deserve a kiss, even if it’s just from you.”

“You always look beautiful, Reh.” Bad decisions were always easy ones to make, especially when it came as a favor to a friend and expectations seemed to be low. He curled around her and kissed her as softly and as carefully as he knew how, like she were only held together by hope and wishes and any wrong move would break her apart. She was his best, and one of his only friends, and kissing her like a whisper seemed like the best way to approach it―right up until she was crawling into his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. He might have made some kind of protest, he thought that he should at least, but he’d never really been good at telling her no to anything that she wanted. Even when for some reason he was that thing. And three days later when they hadn’t really spent more than a couple hours out of bed and the tangle of sheets and blankets and each other, he was sort of happy with the fact that the only thing he knew how to tell her was yes. 


	3. The things we get away with- Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> June finds the perfect dress to wear to prom

 

The thing that she’d been dreading most was waiting in the driveway. “Oh god.” June hissed under her breath. “He’s home. Keep driving-”

Rehka laughed. 

“Please, please, please. Just once around the block.”

Thankfully they kept going, passing unnoticed behind Papa, who was bent over the hood of his car.  

“Why are we hiding from your dad?”

“The dress.” June hugged the garment bag to her chest protectively, the thin plastic clinging to her skin. “He’s not going to like it. He’s going to make me take it back.”

“Honey, you look like a million dollars in that dress, and Nick has no idea how many days we’ve been looking for something for you to wear to prom. The dress is yours. We’re not returning it.”

“You don’t know Papa, though. He doesn’t even want me to go to prom. And he’ll only be happy if I’m in sweats and a baggy t-shirt.” She fumbled her phone out of its pocket and called Sam. Talking fast as soon as she heard him pick up. “Hey, please tell me you’re home?”

And Sam laughed. “I am. Are you still out dress shopping?”

“I’m almost home. I got the dress. Can you  _ please _ go out front and distract Papa so I can get in and hide it without him seeing it?”

“Right now?”

“We’re just driving around the block to waste time. Please? I’ll make dinner tonight, and I won’t ask for any more favors for a week.”

“Alright. Alright. It must be some dress.” Sam shuffled around and June could hear a door opening. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

The man was a saint. 

And if her Papa was even half as understanding as Sam, then her life would be absolutely perfect. As it was, the constant struggle kept her strong. 

Aunt Rehka let her car creep almost comically slow around the block, coming back towards the house. “You know he’s going to want to see it at some point, right?”

“I’ll just tell him that we’re still looking. I can keep him from seeing this dress until I’m headed out the door on Friday. It’ll be too late then.”

“You’re such a little deviant.” She smiled, pulling the car across the street from the house and shaking her head. “Just like your dad and your uncle. It must be in the genes… oh… Sam is good at distracting, isn’t he?”

June looked out the window, and in the shadows of the garage she could just make out the image of two very tall men pressed together along the back side of Papa’s car. “ _ Ewww _ .” But it wasn’t really gross. She was used to it, just like they were used to her unenthusiastic protests. It was really just habit at this point. “They do that sometimes. Come on.” She popped the door open and did her best to ninja her way across the street and through the front door, just trusting that her aunt was following.

The most beautiful dress ever made was hung up in the back, dark corner of her closet, behind some sundresses and snow jackets and big soft flannel shirts that she’d stolen from Sam over the years. Satisfied, she turned to see Rehka leaning in the doorway. 

“Everything set?”

“Yes,” and June scampered over, throwing her arms around her aunt, hugging her tight. “You’re the best.”

“I know.” She hugged back, bonking their heads together lightly. “You know what else I know? You are going to break hearts in that dress.”

“You think so?” June loved how she looked in it. It was the first dress that she’d tried on that looked right on her despite the fact that she was as flat chested at sixteen as she had been at six. It made her feel more like a princess and less like a bad collection of her parents worst features. She had none of her mom’s smooth curve, and had been cursed with her papa’s crooked smile and pale, pale eyes. She felt washed out, and awkward, and too tall for her own good most days. 

But it was a very good dress.

“I think that dress was made for you.” Her aunt stepped back, holding her at arm’s length and smiling for all the world like a proud parent. “And I’m glad that you let me come along and help you find it.”

“I couldn’t convince Sam to come with me again, and Papa is forbidden from coming with me to any kind of department store ever again.”

“He means well, honey.” She sighed. “He’s just… I think he’s afraid that you’re too much like him when he was your age, and he’d rather you stay small and innocent for the next twenty to thirty years if possible.”

June rolled her eyes, because she knew it was true. Papa seemed to be constantly fighting the fact that a few years ago she’d told him that she wanted to go to the store and buy her first bra. She hadn’t really  _ needed _ one, but it had made her feel more grown up, and Papa had never really recovered.

“You want to stay for dinner? I’m cooking and I’ll let you help?”

Rehka shook her head. “Thanks, but I should head home. I don’t like leaving Gabriel alone for too long.”

“You miss him too much?” June teased, because she knew the real answer.

“I’m too worried that he’ll light something on fire… or buy a bouncy castle.”

June grinned. “Or a family of ferrets?”

“Or ordering a copy of every  _ Goosebumps _ book ever made, because he was feeling nostalgic.”

“I hope one day I can be like you and fall in love with someone as fun as Uncle.”

“God. For your own good, I hope that if a boy like your uncle ever even talks to you, that you will punch him and run the other way.”

“Oh, you love him.”

“Love doesn’t mean no regrets.” Were the woman’s wise words before she left.

It was something to ponder over while June shuffled around the kitchen, tossing things in a bowl to make some dinner-pancakes. Rehka was probably right. She usually was. And June would just have to take her word on it, seeing as she didn’t have much experience with the subject, other than observing her dads, or some of the kids at school - though she had her doubts that what her friends called ‘love’ really, really was. 

Her friends were always falling in love in a matter of hours. Like people did in movies. And it was always romantic and lovey and perfect. For a few days or weeks or months at most. 

And then there was Papa and Sam… what they had was not romantic. It was not lovey. It was―

Sam fell through the door between the garage and the kitchen, laughing and half running, only there wasn’t enough room for him to do so. Definitely not with Papa trailing after him, hands in Sam’s back pockets, laughing and burrowing his face between the taller man’s shoulders.

It was weird.

Not perfect.

Not cute.

Just super weird.

All the time.

She knew that they loved each other terribly. She heard them say it sometimes. She saw them show it a lot more often. But she also saw them slowly driving each other crazy. 

Strangely, it was the same way with her aunt and uncle.   

But if that’s what love was? She’d rather pass. 

“Oh,” Sam looked surprised to see her. He was a good actor. “Hey, June. Back from shopping?”

Papa peeked up over Sam’s shoulder and grinned. Resting his chin up there so it looked like they were some kind of two headed dad-monster. “How’d it go, June-bug? Did you find the dress, and does it cover everything?”

“We went to five different stores. Nothing really… spoke to me. You know?” She just nicely left out the part that they’d gone to six stores all together, and that at that last store she’d found a dress that had called out to her like an old friend. 

“Well, you’ve still got a few days. You’ll find something.” Sam was always encouraging.

“And if not, then you can stay home with us. We can have a movie night with pizza and staying up late.” Papa was less encouraging, with his seemingly sweet offers of a fun night with these two doofuses. It was just another way to keep her home and safe and away from boys.

Shaking Papa off, Sam shooed him down the hall. “Go get cleaned up for dinner. You’re covered in grease.”

“So are you.” Papa kissed his cheek before shuffling away.

June couldn’t help but giggle as Sam examined himself. Checking over his clothes, turning in an awkward circle to reveal the very notable handprints on his ass. “That man is a menace.” He said with a defeated sigh.

“Thank you for distracting him.”

“Do I get to see it?”

“Not with Papa in the house. He’ll somehow know if my shoulders aren’t covered.”

Sam grinned, “Oooh, shoulders. So very daring.” And he went to the kitchen sink and washed his hands and arms before coming over to help. “Show me when he goes to work tomorrow?”

It was a little too hard to keep her cool, but June nodded and grinned. 

.:.

“There’s no way in hell you’re going out of the house in that.” Papa loomed in her doorway, frowning as he watched her finishing her makeup. 

“You already said that I could go.” June knew that it was all barking and getting real big without any kind of threat at all from the man. He was like Meatball. He could talk a big game, and did his best to intimidate, but she wasn’t even worried. 

“I told you you can go as long as you were not dressed like… like this,” he waved a hand accusingly at the best dress in the world.

“That was not part of the deal.” She checked her lipstick, not quite sure it was the right color - but she wasn’t all that well practiced at makeup. “You said I could go if I saved up the money for half the dress, and if I kept all my grades up at a B or higher. And as long as I was going with friends, and was not at any point alone with a boy in either a car, or a room, or a poorly lit outside space.” 

“You’re not leaving the house in that. I can see your shoulders and your ass.”

The dress had long sleeves and a high neckline, it was only because Papa was behind her that he could see how far it dipped down in the back.

“You cannot see my  _ ass _ , because it doesn’t go down that low, and also because I do not have one.” She stood and came over, giving him a tight hug. “And you cannot see the tops of my shoulders, which everyone knows is the sexy part. You can only see the backs of them. 

Papa sighed like a man suffering the worst moment of his life, before hugging her back. His long arms wrapping around her before lightly picking her up off the ground. “You have to promise me that you will be safe… and wear a sweater.”

“I’m not wearing a sweater.”

“With that much skin showing, you’re going to get cold.” He hadn’t put her down yet. 

“I will not get cold. Do you have any idea how hot a school dance gets?”

“No. I don’t. I never went to one.” He finally let her feet touch the ground.

“I thought you took Rehka to her junior prom?”

Papa frowned in that way that he did when he was in trouble. Which seemed strange, until, “She was dressed to go to prom. She was going to go alone, and I was supposed to give her a ride to the dance since all her friends had already left. Instead we drove up to her parent’s beach house for the weekend… please, please promise me that you will actually go to your dance.”

“Instead of going to the beach with my best friend?”

“They didn’t go as  _ friends _ .” Sam, who’d stayed out of things for the most part (having agreed to butt in and go as far as locking Papa in the bathroom if needed), said rather clearly from down the hall.

June considered this news, her eyes going wide. “You and Rehka? You two…?  _ Papa _ !”

But he was too distracted to feel the weight of guilt that he should have for sexing up his brother’s long term girlfriend, probably twenty years ago. “Thanks for that, Sam.”

“I’m just saying - yes, you were a horny teenage boy, but she’s not.” Sam peered around the corner from the living room. “Have some faith in her.”

“That’s a bit hard to do when she looks like a Bond girl.” Papa seemed too frustrated to realize the complement he’d just given. 

“Really?” June peered up at him.

Papa turned away from Sam, looking back at her sort of confused. “Really what?”

“You think I’m as pretty as a Bond girl?” Last summer she’d spent most of a week with Uncles Dean and Cassy, while her dads went camping or something up at a national park. She’d watched a lot of silly spy movies with Dean. Spies and Westerns were all that he really seemed to have on DVD. And even if she didn’t really see the whole appeal of James Bond other than his flawless suits - the girls were stunning. All models, and perfect, and sexy as you like.

“You’re... “ Papa sighed. “Of course I think you’re pretty. You’re beautiful, Juny. Ten times more of a knockout than your mom ever was. You’re a little goddess, and I’m terrified of the day that boys start to notice that.”

She didn’t have the heart to tell him that the boys had started noticing her years ago. She’d already been on quite a few dates. Her first real kiss had been almost five years ago. And Sam knew, because she had to talk to someone about it. And Sam kept it secret, because they both agreed that they’d miss Papa when he went to jail for murdering the boy that she’d kissed.    

So, she gave him another hug, grinning at Sam, knowing that she’d won.

Cassidy, Erin, and Anne came by the house to pick her up shortly after. June and her best friends were all headed out together, with plans of meeting up with the boys at prom. None of the other girls’ parents had issues with them taking proper dates to prom. Only June. But best friends being what they are, they’d come up with the plan together. Just another one of those things that Sam knew about, and that they were wisely keeping from Papa and his delicate sensibilities.

She found that as she got older, there were more and more of those things that were better kept secret.

 


	4. Adventures in Babysitting: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> June isn't feeling well and somehow Sam ends up being the one to stay home and take care of her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly have no idea how many of these 'Sam and June have small adventures' there will be, but I figure if I give them all the same chapter title you'll know what not to read if you're not into disgustingly cute bonding time between a step-dad and his partner's kid <3  
> but for those of you who want something with no substance, and just a whole lot of fluff, you've come to the right chapter
> 
> I'm also working on another young Nick and Gabe chapter (one a little happier for Gabe), and a Cas and Dean chapter because why not?   
> But seriously, open to prompts if there's anything you were hoping for

The majority of the morning had been spent with June restlessly sleeping on the couch or rather violently throwing up in the bathroom. Nick and Sam had been taking turns holding her hair and marveling that such a small kid could have that much sick in her that needed to get out. 

Rubbing slow circles on her back with his free hand, Sam was taking his turn sitting on the edge of the tub while the kid hid her forehead against his knee and made pitiful sounds. 

“I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying.” He promised her as he had flashbacks to the previous winter when he’d spent a very sick and sad week in bed with her father, back before they were even properly together. Nick had the same flare for the overdramatic. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I told you and Dean both not to eat that pizza.”

“Pizza can’t go bad.” She grumbled the same excuse that she’d been using since the puking had started; convinced that it was something else wrong with her.

Sam had already called his brother though. The same violently ill problem here was happening over there, and he had no doubt that the culprit was the double cheese, bacon, sausage pizza that the two brave souls had had for breakfast. 

“It had been in your room for almost a week.” Sam reminded in the least ‘I told you so way’ that he could manage. He had not been so kind to his brother about this mistake.

“It tasted fine.”

“Things like that have to be refrigerated.” 

“It’s winter. The house is cold.” She peeked up at him, her eyes dull and tired, sweat dampening the hair around her face.

“You’re just going to have to trust me that it doesn’t work like that.” He soothed, keeping up the slow circular pattern on her back because that’s just what you do when people don’t feel good and you have nothing else to give them. From beyond the closed bathroom door Meatball started barking, shortly followed by the sounds of Nick coming home. “Hey, I think that’s the Papa with your gatorade.”

“Yay,” she grunted without any kind of enthusiasm. “If he got the purple kind I’m disowning him.”

They didn’t have to wait long before the door was being cracked open, giving a glimpse of that worried, fatherly frown. Nick was being the best Dad that he knew how to be and the bottle that he handed to his miserable offspring was orange, as she’d requested. “I got crackers too. I know you said you didn’t need them, but your aunt Anna said that they’ll help your stomach.”

“I don’t want to throw up crackers,” her words sounding hollow as she mumbled them into her bottle.  

“You can nibble on them in a bit when you’re feeling better, sweetheart.” This was the first time that June had been sick since she came to live with him and Nick was taking it surprisingly well. 

Sam was rather proud, to be honest. He’d been expecting the worst considering that on the best of days day Nick had no chill when it came to his only child. 

He’d been shockingly calm though, handling it better than Sam certainly. And maybe it was just his years of experience with being hungover drunk that made him oddly comfortable with the situation. Or perhaps he just had some deep well of parental zen that only came out when someone actually needed him to take care of them (as opposed to all the rest of the time when he was simply restless for an excuse to be of help). 

He joined his child on the floor, long legs folded up in a way that looked very uncomfortable against the cabinet under the sink. He held his arms out to June and she was quick to abandon Sam in favor of Papa. 

“I called the gallery,” he said to Sam between pressing two soft kisses to his daughter’s head.  “They said that they understood me not being able to make it.”

“Nick, I told you I’m good to stay up with her. It’s the opening night. You should be there.”

“My baby is sick.” He didn’t leave any room for debate, and it was as frustrating as it was sweet.

June spoke from his chest while hugging her gatorade and looking so tiny curled up in her father’s lap. “Papa, go show off your paintings. Me and Mister Sam are ok.”

“Sweetie, you haven’t been able to keep anything down all day.” The big man looked for all the world like he was holding a porcelain doll, cradling her so very gently against him.

“You being here with me won’t make me stop puking.”

Sam tried not to smile. He didn’t want an argument with Nick, and encouraging June had never taken them anywhere productive. “She’s been doing better. She hasn’t thrown up since you went to the store.”

The older man just made a noncommittal grunt and kept slowly rocking his child.

“Papa, we can call you if we need you and―”

“You saying that you don’t need me?”

“I always need you. You buy the groceries.” The first hint of any kind of humor since early that morning as she gave her dad a weak smile. 

He made another noise that kind of just meant ‘no’ before kissing the top of her head again. 

The three of them stayed crowded in the bathroom and waited while June slowly drank, and kept down, nearly half her gatorade. Meatball was eventually let in because he couldn’t handle being left out of all the excitement and had started scratching at the door. 

The tubby little dog investigated June’s socks and when she didn’t pay him enough attention he came to Sam and leaned against his leg to get some small ear scratches. Curly little tail flickering like a wind up toy.

Sam had only been living here with them for a few months, but it felt so very much like home and family and perfection. As bad as today had been he wouldn’t have traded any of it. Here was this terrible and beautiful man, his flawless and unforgiving child, and a dog that was shaped like a pot roast―and Sam would fight anyone who tried to tell him that this wasn’t heaven. 

He toyed with the thin ring on his left hand and kept his smile close and quiet as he watched Nick fussing over a kid who didn’t want to be fussed over anymore today.

“Yeah. Alright.” The gentle relenting sounded a lot like defeat when it finally came from Nick. “I’ll poke my head into the gallery for maybe an hour, but Sam is going to call me if you get worse and I’ll come right back home. Ok?”

June rolled her pale eyes that were so very much like her father’s, but it was clear that she was pleased with the middle ground. 

With the rest of their night sorted there was little left to do but settle in. Putting on a movie, Sam tucked the little girl into her home away from home on the couch beneath three heavy blankets before going to check on Nick.

Cracking open the bedroom door he watched the tail end of his friend getting dressed and couldn’t help but tease, “That’s what you’re wearing?” 

Nick pulled his favorite and very faded T-shirt over his head, hair looking a mess, and blinking in confusion. “What’s wrong with it?”

“You look like you just rolled out of bed.”

“I’m not putting on a tie, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

Shaking his head, Sam walked over and threaded his fingers through Nick’s hair, doing his best to make some sense of it. “If you had on a tie I wouldn’t be able to let you out of the house. You know that.”

“You’re so weird,” but he was trying and failing to fight back a smile.

“You have no room to talk.” Sam wished that they had more time like this. More quiet moments between the semester’s full load of classes and Nick’s odd work hours. Most mornings Sam still woke up with a foot of empty mattress between them, because even in sleep there was still a mess of awkward that they hadn’t sorted out since getting back together. “Do I get a kiss before you head out?”

“You going to keep my baby safe while I make pretty eyes at people who might buy some paintings from me?” Nick countered with a question of his own, willing to make this into a trade.

“Safe as houses.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It’s just a thing that people say.” He grinned. “Like you’re a mess, or I love you… you know? Just normal things.” 

The sound Nick made was exasperated, but the kiss he stole was slower and more tender than necessary. “You call me,” he spoke with his lips still against Sam’s. “You call me if she gets any worse.”

“She kept the gatorade down.” Sam couldn’t keep his eyes focused with the other man was so close, so he just closed them and sighed. Content. “But yeah, I’ll call you. I promise.” 

Reluctantly, Nick left.

Reluctantly, Sam let him go.

Joining June on the couch, letting her tiny feet rest on his lap, Sam gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “Still doin’ ok?”

“Mmm, you know, I bet I would feel a bit better if I had some ice cream.”

“Sick people don’t get ice cream.”

“But if I’m not sick?”

He shrugged.

“Then I’m fine, and I’d like one scoop of chocolate and one of strawberry and no of vanilla.”

He leaned over and grabbed the sleeve of saltines that he’d set out on the coffee table earlier. “You show me you can keep these down and we’ll see about some ice cream.”

Looking slightly betrayed, she nibbled on two crackers before drifting away from this side of wakefulness. Sam got to watch her nodding off to sleep, leaving him alone with some tween movie about girls in Australia who were secretly mermaids or something equally bizarre. 

Not wanting to disturb the sleepy kid, he quietly took out his phone and texted.

One to Nick,  **-she’s sleeping. Don’t feel bad if you take your time**

And one to his brother,  **-did you die?**

It wasn’t long before Dean was texting back that indeed he still lived, and was glad to hear that the kid had made it through the worst of it, with side notes of not even wanting to hear the word ‘pizza’ for the next month or two. Nights like this Sam missed his brother. It was hard not to miss someone that you’d lived with your whole life, but they could text. They could make fun of eachother from a distance. They chattered back and forth for a while about nothing in particular and it was significantly better than the movie that had been left to run―up until June was suddenly fighting to sit up, making little distressed sounds and rubbing at her eyes. 

“Hey, you ok?” Sam set his phone on the arm of the couch. “You going to barf?”

“No,” she pulled a blanket around her shoulders like a cape. Her eyes too wide as she looked around the room, slowly getting her bearings. “I started having a bad dream.”

“You were only out for ten minutes, June.” He frowned, because how does someone even get to sleep that quick in the first place? But by the frown she suddenly shot him from under her messy bangs made him realise that wasn’t the right thing to say. So he tried again. “You doing ok?”

As stubborn and independent as her father, she hesitated before shaking her head.

“You want to talk about it?”

“No.”

Sam wondered if it was genetic. All this stubbornness and ‘I don’t want to - you can’t make me’ attitude that June seemed to come predisposed to. Where it should have been frustrating, it only made it that much easier for her to win him over.

“...can I have a hug?” And then she’d add on things like that, with her voice gone all uncertain, and Sam was completely lost.

“Y-yeah, come here,” he scooped her up before she even had the chance to move closer. Sam mimicked what he’d seen Nick doing earlier, holding her as tight and safe as he would have wanted to be held when he was a kid and having a rough day. 

She fit her head under his chin and didn’t hug back, just folding herself up so small as she tucked her legs up into his lap. In the dozen or so late Sunday afternoon naps that they’d shared on the couch with Meatball, June usually slept like a rock. If she ever had bad dreams she’d never shared them.

The mermaid movie played on for a good long while before June mumbled into Sam’s chest the tiny request of, “Don’t tell Papa. Ok?”   

“I won’t.” 

“I just don’t want him to worry.”

“He loves to worry about you.” Sam smoothed a hand over her blanketed shoulders. “It’s his favorite thing in the world.”

“It really is.”

“I remember the first time he told me about you.” He let his thoughts ramble, hoping that he could be comforting, and if not comforting at least distracting. “I’d seen your picture. He has a few up at work and one on his dresser, but I didn’t know who you were. One night we were up late and he told me all about his beautiful princess and how he hadn’t seen you in years but missed you, and would do anything in the world for you. He told me that he loved you from the moment that your mom told him she was pregnant. You’re his favorite thing.”

“You think he loves me more than he loves you?” She wasn’t gloating or teasing, but looking up at him with wonder. 

“Oh, definitely.” Sam wasn’t even mad about it. 

“I think I’d like it better if he loved us both the same.”

“Yeah?”

“Not the  _ same  _ same, but like, the same amount.” She got a little frown as she looked up at him. “Like if we put the love into measuring cups they would both be exactly half a cup.”

“ _ Half _ a cup?”

“Yeah. Half for me and half for you… but not more than half for you. Mom always liked her boyfriends more than me I think, which wasn’t fair because they all really sucked and I’m kind of awesome.”

“More than just ‘kind of’ awesome.” He assured her. “You’re like one hundred and ten percent awesome. The most awesome kid that I’ve ever met.”

“I’m almost a teenager.”

“The most awesome almost-teenager that I’ve ever met.” He corrected himself with a grin.  

“I’d be even more awesome if I had ice cream.”

She was as terrible as her father, and Sam kind of loved her for it. He displaced her from his lap and went into the kitchen, making up two bowls of ice cream.

That’s how Nick found them when he got home almost two hours later. Sharing the blankets on the couch and watching old cartoons while Meatball lay on the floor beside two empty bowls that he’d licked clean. 

With a confused little smile Nick took the recliner, pulling off his shoes. “No more puking I hear?”

“Nope.” June didn’t lift her head from where she’d laid it against Sam’s chest. Comfy and close and warm enough that her long day was starting to creep back up on her, stealing her usual spunk. “Me and Meatball get to sleep with you tonight.”

“You do?” Nick glanced down at the dog and then his child, slowly raising an eyebrow.

“Mister Sam already said it was ok.”

And that was a lie, so the younger man shook his head quicky, not wanting to be blamed for this. He should have known that it was already too late. Nick couldn’t tell June ‘no’ any more than Sam could. 

“I’ll sleep in the middle.” Was all that Nick said. No argument. Not even an attempt at one. Like she’d done nothing more than ask for a bedtime story instead of demanding to crowd in with them to the already very crowded bed. 

June glanced up at Sam before looking back at her dad. “Because you think he might kick me or something?”

“No, because it’s my bed so what I say goes. Besides, I think I’ll sleep really well sandwiched between my two favorite people.”

He wasn’t wrong. 

Nick was the first to fall asleep, his usual nocturnal nature giving way to slow, steady breaths that rumbled low in his chest. 

In the dark of the room, silhouetted against the glow of the nightlight in the hall, June popped her head up. 

“Sam,” she whispered at a volume that hardly qualified as a whisper. “Sam, Papa sounds like a bear.”

Fighting back a laugh, Sam did his best to keep his voice down. “Yeah, usually.”

“He’s so loud.”

“You get used to it.”

With a sigh as deep as a last breath June tried her best to ignore the light snoring with no success. She slipped from the bed and a heavy thump of a rolly polly dog followed her. She came around the room and leaned over Sam, her little face scrunched up in concentration. “I going back to my room. I can’t hear him in there.”

“Alright, June.” Sam wasn’t about to argue. “Just thump on the wall if you have another bad dream. Ok?”  

“Okie dokie.” She gave a weak little wave and shuffled off to her own room. 

Waiting a full minute, just in case she changed her mind, Sam lay there looking up at smooth expanse of ceiling. But the house was quiet aside from the very sleepy man beside him. Not being able to resist, he rolled over and slid an arm around Nick, hiding his face in the man’s neck and feeling the faded scent of aftershave tickle his nose. The snoring didn’t bother him, and he had a feeling that he probably made some sleeping noises of his own. June was better off with a wall between them to dampen the sounds... 


	5. Bad Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay. Another one of these.
> 
> I leave this fic open to small requests. I make zero promises for how soon anything will get written (school starts back up in 3 weeks and I must return to my small children), but if there's any characters or times in their lives (past or future) that you'd like to read about I'd love the excuse to write more.

Some days Dean actually made it home from work around five, like a normal blue collared man should. And then there were days that something went sideways down at the shop and he’d have to stay until well after night fall. Nights like those he’d come back exhausted and filthy from spending the better part of his day under a car. 

And even on the worst late nights, he’d still be the first one home.

A couple years ago Castiel had been hired on as an accountant for a law firm (incidentally the same one that Sam worked at) and he hadn’t been home before eight since then. It meant that Dean was used to eating dinner alone most nights. Not that he was complaining... but he might have been more than a little excited when he came in from the garage and saw that the light in the kitchen was on. 

“Hey, babe. What you doin’ home so... early…” He’d tossed down his keys and come in with every intention to give a quick hello and a slow kiss, until he saw who was sitting at his table. “ _ June _ ? Kiddo, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Eating pizza, old man,” she grinned and nudged the box towards him. “Extra cheese, extra sausage, no nasty olives or mushrooms in sight. Come help me with it.”

Not about to turn down such a delicious offer, Dean took two beers from the fridge and pulled up a chair.  “No, I mean shouldn’t you be down in… in…”  _ fuck _ , but he couldn’t remember where she’d gone off to school. It was either San Diego or Los Angeles. “In school or something?”

“Dude, it’s spring break.” She rolled her eyes and pulled a slice of pizza heavy and drooping under the weight of cheese. “I wanted to come home and spend a few days with you weirdos.”

“Me and Cas?” Dean wasn’t saying no but he was sure confused as to why she’d be here instead of with Sam and Nick like she always was when she came home for a visit.

She stuck her tongue out and wrinkled her nose. “Gross. No. I just wanted to come by before going to the dad place.”

For starters, this was a college town here and Dean was nearly positive that it wasn’t spring break yet. That seemed like the kind of thing that he’d notice. So June had come up when she should be in class―which meant only bad things. And worst of all, she was here for Cas and he wouldn’t be home for another hour at least. 

It was cheap pizza, but even cheap pizza was still better than no pizza, and Dean took another slice. It gave him something to do other than talk to the gorgeous monster sitting across from him. 

He hadn’t had a single clue how to handle her since she went from being a kid to an actual  _ girl _ . One summer she’d had braces on her teeth and bandaids on her knees, and then suddenly she was this athletic young thing with legs for days and a smile that made boys her age forget their own names. She was his niece and she was built like a Victoria Secret model. Dean found himself overly protective of her, which made him feel too much like Nick, and he hated it. 

“You, uh, got your haircut,” he fumbled for something to say to her. “Looks good.”

She got one of those crooked smiles which made it hard for her to blow on the fringe of white blonde hair that fell over her forehead, but it sure was cute. Her hair was shorter than Sam’s now, boldly showing off the old scar that ran from her ear to shoulder. The confidence looked good on her.

There were multiple reasons that Dean felt the same aggressive protectiveness over her that the rest of her family felt. 

The kid was preening, pursing her lips and turning her head side to side as she showed off. “My roommate did it for me. I told her to make me look like Frank Sinatra’s mug shot because dude was hot and I strive to achieve such hotness.”

Dean laughed around his mouth full of pizza, not at all sure how to take that one. “I’d say she nailed it. You’ve got some Annie Lennox levels of foxyness goin’ for you.”

“I’ve had it long since I was a kid.” She wiped her fingers on a pant leg before running them through the short mess of blonde. “You think Papa’s gonna like it?”

“Why should it matter if that old weirdo likes it?” Dean shook his head. “As long as you do.”

She grinned at him. “That’s why you’re my second favorite weirdo uncle.”  

And that was why she was his first favorite niece. He never got even half this amount of sass from Michael’s girls.  

“Yeah, well, I can’t compete with Cas even if I tried.” No one could be that weird. No one. Dean would graciously accept second place.

Her smile dimmed and she set down her half finished slice. “I was sort of hoping that Uncle Cassy was going to be here.”

“He doesn’t get off work until late.” Dean hated how that only made the kid sink a little lower. “But he’ll be stoked to see you if you wanna hang around and wait.” He had no idea what he’d do with her in the meantime, but he knew something was off and he wasn’t about to turn her away.

“As long as you don’t mind.” Her grin came back at half power.

They ate in a comfortable kind of quiet, June poking at her phone and Dean just enjoying the quiet after a long day. The two of them killed the large pizza with matching appetites. Fighting over the last slice―and against his better judgement, Dean backed down first.

June tipped her chair onto two legs, grinning victoriously around her slice of extra cheese and sausage. “So, old man… you ever going to make an honest man out of Uncle Cassy?”

The kid was a menace, just like her dad. 

Like a tiny hurricane.

Nick was spearheaded the campaign for ‘ _ Fucking just marry my brother already _ ’. He didn’t seem to get that the two men had been happily living together for nearly ten years: filing joint taxes, spending every Sunday morning in bed reading, making each other their favorite dinners for birthdays, and having messy sex after every fight. It worked for them. It didn’t have to be perfect for anyone else. 

Sighing, Dean voiced a quiet suspicion, “Your dad put you up to this?” Because if this is what she was here for then he was going to go watch tv and she could just stay parked in the kitchen by herself.

June snorted softly and propped her knees up against the table. “Nah, but believe me, I’ve heard him complain about the two of you more than enough.”

“We’re happy and your dad can shove his complaints up his ass.” Dean said on reflex and then wondered a little too late if he’d crossed a line. “Sorry.”

Her head fell back as she let out a short laugh. “Old man, you sorry for the language or sayin’ my papa can go fuck himself? Because I’m fine with both.”

Other nieces simply could not compete. 

Dean went to collect the empty beer bottles and was surprised to feel that June’s was still full. “Not drinking tonight, princess?”

“I’m being responsible.”

He tossed his bottle into the recycle bin and took June’s untouched one, sitting back down and getting started on it. Waste not want not. “It’s just one beer and you always keep up with me and Sammy during summer barbeques.”

She pursed her lips before cramming the rest of her pizza crust in her mouth and shaking her head. “Just let me be responsible for once. Alright?”

“Right.” Dean teased. It’s not like he was going to pressure her to drink―but he’d had the honor of opening her very first beer for her on her twenty first birthday and it was just sort of a thing with them. “I forget. You’re driving that bus full of orphans later. And operating all kinds of heavy machinery. And of course it’s not good for the baby. Sorry. Sorry for the temptation.” He was laughing―right up until he saw the haunted look on June’s face. 

“Sorry,” he winced, feeling rather sober and worried. “Did something happen, kiddo?” 

She wouldn’t meet his eye, resting a hand over her stomach and sighing in a wounded sort of way.

Now, Dean had been thinking that June had had a bad drinking experience at school, or maybe a friend had been in a drunk driving accident. And that was still an option, but her posture had him worried that it was something more severe than one night of getting blackout drunk and the subsequent ‘please kill me’ hangover the next morning. 

“Are you… I mean,” he struggled to find the right way to ask. “Are you… is there a baby in you?”

She leveled him with an almost angry look.

“Oh…oh well shit.”

The kid sighed and put her head in her hands and Dean wished that he had kept his dumb mouth shut for once. 

Well, at least that explained why June was here to talk to Cas―not that there was a single parallel universe in which Castiel was qualified or capable to deal with this―but he was definitely going to be more reasonable about this news than her other uncles might be. 

Or her dad.

All Dean could think to say was, “well shit.”

“You already said that,” June grumbled from behind her hands. “And it doesn’t help.”

So Dean shut the hell up.

He didn’t know what to say, and usually that wouldn’t stop him, but June looked somewhere between crying and yelling so he did his best not to give her any excuse to make a decision one way or the other.

June was a tough kid and obviously not made to sit there sulking for too long. The pizza box and some used napkins got collected and tossed in the trash. She wordlessly fussed around the kitchen, getting herself some water from the tap and a carton of ice cream from the freezer 

It was Dean’s ice cream, and he usually didn’t share, but she brought two spoons so he had no choice by to graciously accept.

Despite the large pizza that they’d just shared, they emptied the carton of ice cream too. Eating was easier than talking and they were good to embrace the distraction for a short while. 

“You, um,” June twirled her spoon between her fingers, looking down at what was left of their dessert, “you think Papa’s going to be happy to be a grandpapa?”

“Nick?” Dean laughed a little uncomfortably. “He’ll fucking lose it. I’ve never seen a man so in love with his kid, and you making a new little tiny you? A mini-June? He’s gonna be over the goddamn moon.” 

She looked up for the first time in what felt like forever, an optimistic little smile creeping in. “You think so?” 

Hell no.

Nick was going to go crazy at the idea that someone had screwed his little girl, despite the fact that his ‘little girl’ was somewhere around twenty four years old and probably hadn’t been a virgin anytime recently.

And he knew how Nick would react because if Dean had a daughter of his own he’d feel exactly the same way. But you know what, it wasn’t a good time to feel sympathetic for the other man.

“He might take a bit to get around to saying he’s happy,” Dean evaded carefully,  “but just keep baby-daddy clear of Nick for a little while and it should all be fine.” 

“Yeah, well, that should be easy, seeing as I don’t know who the dad is.”

Dean really, really wished that Cas was here. He wished anyone else was here to be listening to this because he felt very lost. 

Not even half as lost as the girl looking up at him though. 

He’d never been all that good with kids, but he’d gotten used to June over the years. She’d stayed the night a few times back in her high school days. Sleeping on his and Cas’ couch while Nick and Sam were off having some of their quality alone time. She’d bring her tiny dog and they’d eat his food and criticize his movie collection. She’d painted his nails and he’d made a valiant effort to convince her that Metallica was better than Elvis.  

She was his little niece and he didn’t feel at all capable of giving any kind of advice worth hearing.

“You doin’ ok?” He finally asked for lack of anything more constructive.

“No?” She laughed softly. “But me and my little cinnamon bun ‘ve had almost six months to get used to each other.”

“Six?” Dean was no expert on these things, however he was nearly positive that six was past the half way mark. “So you were pregnant when you were home for Christmas break, and you didn’t tell anyone?”

“I didn’t wanna’ ruin everyone’s Christmas.”

That hurt Dean. Physically hurt him.

He pushed himself away from the table and came to stand over June. “Come’ere,” Dean demanded with open arms and a lot of the same kind of protective anger he usually reserved for Sam.

Luckily it didn’t take any convincing on his part, because Dean wasn’t even close to good at this kind of thing. June simply looked up at him in confusion, glancing from his face to his arms that were held wide enough to hug her twice―and she stumbled up from her chair and mashed her face into his shoulder. 

Cas walked in to find the two still hugging something fierce, and Dean hadn’t even noticed that the man had come home until he made himself a quiet third wheel to the niece comforting efforts. It was a little startling to have an extra set of arms suddenly wrap around him, but Dean easily looked over June’s head to see Castiel’s worried little frown, and relaxed. 

The three of them stood there awkwardly, making a protective uncle sandwich with a sniffling kid filling.

June stayed the night with them, sleeping on the couch like she used to, even if her feet now dangled off the end. Until she was quietly snoring Castiel was all smiles and so supportive and beaming with excitement of being a great uncle―and as soon as he seemed sure that she was out he turned to Dean with a look of a child who just found out that there wasn’t an Easter Bunny.

“I have to tell Nick,” he narrated his actions in a horrified stage whisper, pulling out his phone and walking quickly towards the back door, because apparently the porch was an ideal place to do stupid things.

“No.” Dean practically chased the other man. “No, Cas. No you don’t have to. If anyone other than June tells him something like this he’s going to start swinging.” He pulled the phone away and held it behind his back where it would be harder to reclaim. 

“ _ Dean _ . If it was you wouldn’t you want to know you were a grandpa?”

“She’ll tell him when she’s good and ready, Cas. It’s none of our damn business.”

Lots of things were none of their damn business. Off the top of his head, Dean could actually name at least five things in the past year that had been none of their damn business, things involving the other man’s side of the family that would have been better left well alone.

And not the type of men to scoff in the face of tradition, Cas promised not to call Nick, and Dean went to go get a shower―only to come downstairs and find a rather agitated blond man sitting on his couch hugging his offspring while making quiet threats towards an unnamed baby daddy, all the while praising the majesty that was June and her ability to create life like she was some sort of eldric goddess. 

Maybe in part that was just ‘being a parent’; living in constant awe of, and fear for, your child.  

Dean couldn’t even come close to complaining about the unwanted houseguest, or Castiel breaking his promise. Because June looked like she felt radiantly safe with her head tucked up under Nick’s chin. She was grinning matching grins with the terror that was her Papa, laughing softly at all the ridiculous and terrible things that he was telling her. Apparently in this unprecedented situation, Castiel really had known best. 

“Stop creeping over there like weirdos, you guys.” June waved impatiently to where her uncles  were hovering in the doorway to the room like they had no business in their own home. “If we’re all going to just stand around and stare can someone put on a movie or something so we’re not all staring at me?”

Though the the evening hadn’t gone anywhere close to how Dean had envisioned it when he’d left work hours ago, and he’d really like to go to sleep but wouldn’t be able to as long as Nick was here haunting his house, it wasn’t exactly a  _ bad _ night.    

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
